suicide silence
by rhysand
Summary: "To feel alive," She looks at him, her former bright blue eyes are now clouded over, lifeless, as she often describes. "Juvia cuts to feel alive." He looks at her skeptically, one of his brows lifting up. He does not push her any further. He pulls down her sleeve and sighs, shaking his head a bit. Then, he leaves.


**summary:** "To feel alive," She looks at him, her former bright blue eyes are now clouded over, lifeless, as she often describes. "Juvia cuts to feel alive." He looks at her skeptically, one of his brows lifting up. He does not push her any further. He pulls down her sleeve and sighs, shaking his head a bit. Then, he leaves.

 **series:** fairy tail

 **rating:** m

 **genre:** hurt/comfort/tragedy

 **pairing:** one-sided gruvia, nalu mentioned.

 **triggers:** negativity, self harm, suicide

 **note:** i do not own fairy tail.

Day 697:

"Why do you do this to yourself?" He rolls up her sleeve, revealing deeps cut that cover most of her forearm. She knows he's just trying to help, but he's only making it worst, making the cuts deeper. It does not seem real unless someone tells her so.

"To feel alive," She looks at him, her former bright blue eyes are now clouded over, lifeless, as she often describes. "Juvia cuts to feel alive." He looks at her skeptically, one of his brows lifting up. He does not push her any further. He pulls down her sleeve and sighs, shaking his head a bit. Then, he leaves.

She's used to it, she supposes. People leaving her. It happens all the time. Her parents left her and so did her so-called friends. Just like him, he comes and goes too. Right when she thought her life was going to change for the better, he rejected it. He just left, and now he only comes back to ask her why.

Her inner demons are eating at her to get the blades ready, but there are already fresh cuts there, she has no space to work with.

Day 717:

She loathes it.

She despises it.

She hates herself.

She hates how dead she feels, inside and out. She just wants to feel alive. Or dead. Or something.

She picks up the all too familiar piece of metal she carries with her… everywhere. It's sharp and feels cold on her palm. Time to feel alive, she thinks herself before she presses the blade against her skin. Then, she feels it. The warmth pools over her skin, running down her arm and onto the floor, she presses the blade into her flesh deeper.

You see, after a while, it starts to feel numb and suddenly, the cut isn't deep enough. So you cut deeper and deeper, until the only thing you feel in pain and the warmth of blood coating her forearm.

She doesn't deserve to live. That's what she tells herself. That no one cares, that if she died no one would care. The only person who had cared, wouldn't accept her into his life. She wonders if she should just end her life already. She doubts someone would notice, anyways. Who would care about her?

She cannot help how she feels, all these little voices in her head, it feels like she's going insane.

Juvia places her arm under her tap and hisses as the water meets her bloody arm, the water cleaning and revealing her deep wounds to her lifeless eyes. They're red and kind of then, blood oozing out of the cuts and onto her skin.

Day 737:

It's a beautiful thing, to feel alive.

He doesn't think so. He looks at her with such pity she almost cringes. Almost.

"You'll die someday, won't you?" He says, and she just shrugs. She accepted that long ago.

"We all die someday."

"But to die so young?" She doesn't answer, she doesn't think she can. So what if she's young? That doesn't mean that life is easy. She struggles. She struggles to breathe. It feels like she's drowning, and everyone can see her, but no one has helped her. They just ask why.

He doesn't care.

He's just trying to make a conversation with you so it's not awkward.

He doesn't even smile around you.

You don't make him happy.

Those voices. Those god damn voices. They are always there, whispering to her, telling her to just die already.

She looks at him, and smiles just a bit. It's the bittersweet kind, one that she's done many times, and just closes her eyes, "Juvia lives to die."

He smiles back at her, also the bittersweet kind, and replies, "I guess the saying, 'only the good die young' is true, huh?"

She just stares.

He is so cruel to her heart.

Day 757:

"You know what, Juvia?" Lucy looks at her and smiles, growing her a toothy grin that she probably picked up from her boyfriend. Lucky her. The blonde continues, all smiles and sunshine and lollipops and whatever it's like to be happy. She doesn't remember anymore. "You're like snow: cold yet beautiful."

Juvia knows it's meant to be a compliment, but it does nothing but cut at her.

She's stirring you up.

She wants to see you suffer.

She wants you to leave.

She hates you.

And he hates you, too.

They're only pretending to like you out of pity.

They'd never care if you died.

"Luce," Gray warns. What a lovely nickname, if only Juvia had one. She's jealous of Lucy. She sees the way he looks at her, with such a look of longing she's sure that Gray is love himself. She felt that way about him once, too. He was her sunshine through the darkness. The apple to her pie, whatever teenagers nowadays were saying. To keep it short: she loved him.

She had told him that, too. He was cleaning up her wounds, since he had caught her in the act. He had just stared at her and sighed, keeping his lips pressed together. She just nodded. She understood.

He'll never love you.

"What, Gray? It's true! Her hair is gorgeous and blue." He just rolls his eyes, and she fakes a pout. "Hmph! Natsu would understand."

She's heard that name before, it's the name of Lucy's boyfriend. According to Gray, he was a, and she quotes this, 'a pink haired idiot'. She doesn't its fair, to Lucy to have all of Gray's love when she had another.

Juvia just keeps silent.

She's worthless. How can she be so beautiful, and not attract the one person who mattered the most?

Absolutely worthless.

Day 777:

You're ugly.

Look at all those scars, you can't even wear shirts without long sleeves.

You waste so much money on bandages and Band-Aids, no wonder you're broke.

She has had enough, she decides. The cutting doesn't work anymore. It's a sign. It's time.

She was going to die just how she lived, beautifully tragic.

She cannot see properly, the floors and walls around her are blurry. She swears they are spinning and the world below her were falling apart. She can't see, hear, or feel anything. But she knows. She knows she's dying, because just before her vision turned, she was lying in her own blood.

She can tell she's falling, and that someone has caught her.

Gray.

Of course, because he loves to pretend that he cares.

She croaks out, but she is certain she does not make sense. He's saying something. Yelling out, she presumes. She wants to tell him that she no longer needs his pity and that he no longer has to pretend. But he still calls out anyways, his face flooded with tears.

Doesn't he ever stop acting?

She would no longer be his burden.

Juvia can feel it, the world around her was becoming blinding. Was this death? It seemed too… amazing to be death. Everyone made it out to seem so painful and tragic, but to her it was the opposite. She smiles weakly, and although she cannot actually tell, Gray's tears have fallen on her cheeks.

The world was closing around her, yet she still was smiling. Death seemed too bright to seem bad. She just wish she could tell Gray one thing first. That she was glad he gave her a glimpse of happiness, even if it was only for a couple months are unrequited love.

She does not what is on the other side— the side of the dead. But she knows one thing; whatever it was, it was going to be good. Real good.

Feeling alive was beautiful. But dying was warm and breath-taking.

another prompt for angst week.

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